


The Reconing Remix

by TVObsessee



Category: Darkest Powers - Kelley Armstrong
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-07-07
Updated: 2010-07-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 15:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TVObsessee/pseuds/TVObsessee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Going through the book and adapting some areas to change the almost moments with Chloe and Derek into happy memories. I mean, Derek is just too yummy for his own good. A pleasant combination of original text and my own ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the Attic

"Chloe!"

My knees shook at the shout. Footsteps thudded across the roof. Ghosts don't make footsteps.

"Don't move."

I looked over my shoulder to see Derek.

-Chapter 3-

Derek made his way across the flat section of the roof. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, but his feet were bare.

"Watch out," I called. "There's broken glass."

"I see it. Stay where you are."

"It's okay. I'll just back up and—" The wood creaked under me. "Or maybe not."

"Just stay there. The wood's rotting. It's holding your weight as long as you stand still."

"But I walked out here, so it must be—"

"We're not testing that theory, okay?"

There was none of the usual impatient snap in his voice, meaning he was really worried. And if Derek was worried, I'd better stay right where I was. I gripped the railing.

"No!" he said. "I mean, yes, hold on, but don't put any weight on it. It's rotted through at the base."

Great.

Derek looked around, like he was searching for something to use. Then he stripped off his shirt. I tried not to look away. Not that he looked bad without his shirt. The opposite, actually, which is why… Let's just say friends are really better when they're fully dressed.

Derek got as close as he dared, then knotted a corner of the T-shirt and tossed it to me. I caught it on the second throw.

"I'm not going to pull you in," he warned.

A good thing, because with his werewolf strength, he'd probably wrench it from my hands and I'd tumble off the roof backward.

"Pull yourself along—"

He stopped, seeing I was already doing that. I made it onto the flat part, wobbled a step, then felt my knees start to give way. Derek grabbed my arm—the one without stitches, bandages, and a bullet graze—and pulled me into his chest, gripping me tightly.

"Why don't we sit down for a minute?" he asked, letting go slightly to look me in the eyes. They were pretty intense, almost as if he was afraid for me.

Considering I was still shaking from the incident, he probably was.

We sat down, him pulling me between his legs. He was still shirtless. It was very difficult to ignore, but my close encounter of the ghost kind and his own apparent terror helped. He moved closer and wrapped his arms around me. I guess I was still shivering.

"I—I'll be okay. Just give me a second. It's safe to sit here, right?"

"Yeah, the slope's only about twenty-five degrees, so—" Seeing my expression, he said, "It's safe."

The fog was lifting, and I could see trees stretching into the distance on all sides, a dirt road winding through them to the house.

"There was a ghost," I said finally.

"Yeah, I figured that. In the future, can we avoid your solo ghost adventures?"

"I—I knew I shouldn't follow but—" I paused, not ready for the full explanation, still shaky. "I stopped outside your door, hoping you'd hear me. I guess you did?"

"Kind of. I was dozing. Woke up confused, so it took me a while to get out here. Got a touch of fever."

I saw it now, the glittering eyes and the abnormally hot skin gripping me tight.

"Are you—?" I began.

"I'm not Changing. Not for a while. I know what that feels like now, and I've got a ways to go. Another day, at least. Hopefully longer. I'm not… one-hundred percent around this time, so I'm a little skittish. And not particularly suited for rescue missions." He wasn't even trying to be subtle.

"I'll try to eliminate the ghost encounters for a few days," I sighed. "But no guarantees."

He grunted.

"I bet you'll Change completely this time," I said, trying to change the subject.

"Yeah, maybe." His tone said he doubted it.

He gripped me tighter and rested his head on my shoulder, making his toned body all the more apparent to my softer flesh. At sixteen, Derek was more than a foot taller than me. Solidly built, too, with broad shoulders and muscles he usually kept hidden under baggy clothes, so he wouldn't look intimidating. I bet he'd look amazing in a suit.

Since he'd started Changing, Mother Nature seemed to have cut him some slack. His skin was clearing up. His dark hair didn't look greasy anymore. It still hung in his face—nothing emo, just like he hadn't bothered to get it cut in a while. Lately, that would have been the last thing on his mind. Right next to getting a tailored suit.


	2. The First Full Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I was expecting something a little more fun and entertaining when Derek finally went full wolf. Or at least embarrassing. So again, I'm left to fill in what I think should have happened.

When I relaxed, he shifted closer, fur brushing my hand. I tentatively touched it, feeling the coarse top layer and soft undercoat. He leaned against my hand, as if to say it was okay, and I buried my fingers in his fur, his skin so hot from the Change it was like putting my numb hands on a radiator. My cool fingers must have felt just as good, because he closed his eyes and shifted until I was leaning on him. I took his invite and gripped him tighter, hugging him close to keep me warm.

And to cool him down a bit, of course. It must have worked, because within minutes, he was asleep. Or maybe I'm just bad company.

I closed my eyes, meaning to rest for just a moment, but the next thing I knew, I was waking up, curled on my side, using Derek as a pillow. A body pillow. My arms were still wrapped around him tight and my head was comfortably resting between his shoulders and back, but the rest of my body had also made itself comfortable. My feet had tucked in a bit to rest between his legs. A lot closer to body parts that would normally be covered than my waking mind was comfortable with.

I looked up to see if he had noticed. Considering his eyes boring down at me, I think he had. Only he hadn't done anything to change the situation.

I moved to detangle myself from his body, which he did nothing to help me out with. You would think he wanted us to be tangled up. I wasn't going to let my mind hop down that rabbit hole. Unrequited love is a lot more predictable.

"S—sorry, I didn't mean—"

He cut me short with a growl, telling me off for apologizing, then bumped my leg, knocking me back onto his side. I lay there a moment, enjoying the warmth. He snarled a yawn, flashing canines as long as my thumb, and rolled onto his back, trapping me in an awkward—but still effective—hold as his front leg came around my back.

I really needed to start working out during our little down time.

If it wasn't for his current shape, we would probably look pretty cozy. Like a couple enjoying some solitude in the night forest. I really shouldn't be thinking about things like that at a time like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That one was a lot more me, but equally cozy. See what I mean? Derek huggles make it all so much better.


	3. Spilling Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one I didn't originally plan on doing, but I was scrolling through the book, and this came up, and I just couldn't resist. I am such a pushover.

When I woke up, I was still in the chair, a blanket tucked in around me, my glass of water waiting on the table. Derek sat a few feet away on the sofa, lost in thought as he stood watch. Stood watch for what, I didn't know. It didn't matter. Threat or no threat, it felt good to wake up and see him there.

And as I watched him, I realized how good it felt. All my denials were just that—denials—because it would be easier if we were just friends. But it wasn't like that, not for me.

I wanted to know that if I went over there he would wrap his arms around me, letting me curl into his safety, and tell me that it was going to be okay. They didn't have to be true. Let him lie to me for my sanity, his strength filling in the blanks where sincerity didn't filter through. I just wanted him to say it, to hear it, to feel his arms around me, hear the rumble of his words, that deep chuckle that made my pulse race.

He turned my way, and I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn't notice for a second. Didn't notice that I had been caught staring. I looked away fast, cheeks flaming. I could feel him looking at me. Frowning slightly, like he was trying to figure something out. Like he was going to make a big decision. Before he could, I gulped my warm water and said, "Must be almost lunchtime," which was a stupid thing to say, but all I could think of.

It took him a moment before he answered, as lost in thought as I had just been momentarily, shrugging and saying, "Maybe." Then, "You okay?"

I nodded.

"You want to talk about what happened downstairs? With Banks?"

I nodded again.

"I should get Simon," he said. "He'll want to know."

Another nod, but he didn't move, just watched me as I kept sipping the warm water.

"Chloe."

I took my time looking up, certain he'd figure out what I'd been thinking and was about to let me down gently. He wouldn't say "Sorry, I'm not interested," because that wouldn't be Derek—too presumptuous—but he'd find some way to convey the same message, as I had with Simon. I like you. I just don't like you that way.

"Chloe."

Whatever he wanted to say, he was pretty intent on my hearing it. I looked up then, and what I saw in his eyes—My hands fumbled the glass, and I dropped it, water splashing over me, soaking my jeans. I scrambled to catch the glass before it hit the floor, barely making it, on one knee, prize gripped firmly in my hand. And I was still there when I felt the glass being tugged from my fingers. That had not been the look I expected. I looked up to see Derek crouching in front of me, his face inches from mine. He shifted to be squared in front of me and rested his forehead against mine, our lips seconds from each other.

"I just need you to be safe," he whispered.

"I'm safest when you're near."

"No," he insisted, shaking his head.

I held him still. "As close as possible."

He leaned forward and—

"What'd you lose?"

Simon's voice came from the doorway, and we shot to our feet so fast we collided.

"What were you looking for?" Simon asked, walking in. "Not your necklace, I hope."

"N-no. I—I just dropped my glass." I gestured at my wet jeans. Then I glanced at Derek, who stood there, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"I was just about to…" I was going to say I'd been about to explain what happened with Dr. Banks. Only I didn't want to. Not now. I wanted to rewind the tape, go back to that moment on the floor, pray Simon didn't show up for another minute—maybe ten—just long enough to find out if what I thought was going to happen would happen. That was more emotion than I had seen from him in a while. But it wouldn't. Not now. The moment had passed.

"I—I should change my pants."

"Sure." Simon thumped onto the sofa.

I made it to the door, then Derek said, "Chloe?" and I turned, and it looked like he was trying to think of something to say, maybe find some excuse to come with me.

"You should start making lunch, and I'll meet you in the kitchen," I said, filling in the excuse he couldn't collect.

He smiled.

"I'll get Tori later and we can come down to collect your goods in about thirty or forty minutes," Simon said, settling into the couch with a smile. You would think he knew something.

"Sure." Now I was the one smiling.

-Chapter 28-

How lame does it sound if I admit I stayed upstairs a little longer than necessary, combing my hair, washing my face, using a blow dryer on my jeans when I realized my new ones didn't fit well, then brushing my teeth. Not too long, mind, we would only have thirty minutes before the argument-brigade arrived.

Considering Derek had seen me in ugly pink pajamas, dirt on my face, my hair full of twigs, having minty-fresh breath wasn't going to make him go "Wow, she's really cute." But it made me feel better.

I went down to the kitchen to find Derek over at the counter making sandwiches. It was just peanut butter and jelly, but it was nice seeing him taking care of everyone. Turns out alpha tendencies were about overall wellbeing, and not just safety.

I walked slowly into the room, intent on surprising someone with superhuman hearing. He continued to make sandwiches, outwardly oblivious to my actions. I came up behind him and reached up to cover his eyes.

"Guess who?"

"I could hear you from your room," he said, a rumbling laugh lacing his words. He grabbed my hands from his face and pulled me around so I was standing between him and the counter.

"Is that so?"

He smiled, leaned down so his face was inches from mine. His eyes went down to my lips once, twice, before he slowly, hesitantly, met his lips to mine. It was perfect. Concerns I didn't want went away, because he was here. His attention focused on keeping me happy, and he was doing a wonderful job. I was set on the table as he moved closer, intent on bringing our bodies as close as possible.

And I wanted it too. There were plenty of problems waiting for us outside the kitchen door, but they weren't right here. Fingers glided along my waist beneath my shirt, tightening every few intense moments. My own fingers mapped out a chest I was already familiar with, but needed closer examination.

His mouth had migrated on to my neck, his breathing deep. "I know this scent," he whispered softly into my ear. "It's safe now."

"It's always safest with you, so long as you're safe."

"I'm always—"

He stopped and moved back slightly, still gripping me around my waist. He sighed, and set me back down to Earth.

"What is it?"

"Andrew's coming. Help me finish these sandwiches."

I turned around and we moved in sync as we made sandwiches and cut apples. Well, I tried to cut an apple. Derek thought it better if he handled the complicated parts of the meal.

"Hey guys, what are you making?" Andrew's voice came through the doorway.

"Just some snacks," I answered, turning around to face him.

Derek tensed.

"I'll go find Tori and see if she's hungry." I left the room in a hurry and went looking for Tori. She'd taken off after the planning meeting, saying something about cleaning, so we hadn't had time to update her on Royce and Dr. Banks. On the main level, I followed the vacuum cord in the hall and found her in the library, at the bookshelf, dusting off the old leather books.

"I don't think you need to do that anymore," I said. "We're leaving tomorrow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da! Lords of Kobol, that was long (if you get that reference and tell me so in a review, you get extra love from me). Believe it or not, but that was really hard to do. I hadn't planned on kitchen makeout session, but it called to me, and I felt it wasn't complete, so I did it, and then I got stuck, but now it's all better. I still don't like it a whole lot, but it's still good.


	4. Up on the Rooftop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning on doing this section, but when I went to do the next one, it didn't feel right without having this one. So I've decided to do this one. It isn't like the others, as there is NO resolution of any kind through kisses, and is probably a little unnecessarily harsh, but it needs to be done to set the stage. It will hurt, but a good hurt that will be a lot more satisfying than the little hurt we had in the book. Not too much has changed, but just enough.

I found Derek on the roof, looking, listening, and sniffing for signs of anyone guarding the house.

"Oh, this is a great idea," I said. "The guy they're most likely to shoot is standing on the roof, giving them a perfect target."

"They won't see me up here."

When I gave him a look, he sighed, like I was making a huge deal out of nothing, then sat and said, "Okay?"

"Better, but I still don't think it's safe for you to be up here."

"Just a few more minutes." He took off his coat and held it out beside him. "Sit down here, between me and the chimney. It's safe."

"Derek, you can't know that."

"Yes, I actually can."

I sat down. It didn't look like he was going anywhere.

"What are you doing here?"

"Sitting. With you."

"And before that?"

"Waiting for you," he answered, as if that answer was good enough.

"We shouldn't be up here. They could have night vision goggles, sniper rifles…"

The corners of his mouth twitched and I braced myself for "You watch too many movies." He didn't say it, but I knew he was thinking it.

"We shouldn't be up here," I repeated.

"Can we talk for a moment?"

I paused. "What?"

"Talk. For a moment. I want to talk to you. Out here, in the closest thing to—to out there."

"Talk? You want to talk? Now? Up here? You know, I thought that it just might concern you, what is going on here. Turns out you are completely cool under pressure. Well, isn't that something new. So we should talk out here, where there is nothing going on that could possibly hurt us. That's a great idea. You may think you've got it all figured out, Derek, but you are just as lost in this world as the rest of us."

And I walked away.

"Chloe…"

"You're not coming inside, are you?" I asked over my shoulder.

"I will. Just sit down. I want to talk to you."

"We can talk inside, Derek. I want to talk to you inside, Derek."

"I don't smell anyone out here. I think Andrew's lying."

"Because that's the right answer. Come inside when you've figured out the right answer for the rest of us."

"Chloe…"

I turned and walked away.

I hoped he'd follow. I knew he wouldn't. He didn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that was just a set-up for the next one… big kiss… I know you'll like that one.


	5. The Official First Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here is the actual book's first kiss. But since in this version they've already had a few kisses—and a delightful, although probably a little short, make out session—it will be a bit steamier than in the book. At least, I will try. This isn't really my forte, so I have a few romance novels sitting by as well for reference.
> 
> I was going to start a little earlier than here, since it gives a better reference, and Derek is soo cute here, but I figured it would be better to just cut to the chase. Plus, I would have had to do the whole chapter. And while it isn't that many pages, it wouldn't get to the chase for a while and I think the lead is really good as is.

I was sketching out the scene when the door opened. I looked up to see Derek standing there.

I kept my expression neutral. "Hmm?"

"Got something for you." He held out an old eight millimeter video camera. "I found it downstairs. It's not working, but I think I can fix it."

A video camera? What would I use it for? Recording our great escape? I didn't say that, because I knew it wasn't the point. This was a gift, a way to say "I know I screwed up and I'm sorry."

His eyes begged me to take it. Just take it. Forgive him for nearly scaring me to death. Forget that he is completely insensitive to what others are feeling. Start over from before I wished he would never speak to me again. And that's what I wanted to do—accept his gift for what it was and smile and see that spark in his eyes which makes everything better and—

I took the camera and set it on the table. As far away from me as I could make it.

Derek looked down, deflated. He got the point, but didn't let that stop him. "It's cold in here," Derek said. "Is the radiator working right?" He walked over and put his hands on it. "Not very well. I'll grab a blanket."

"I don't need—"

"Just a sec."

He took off. A minute later, he came back with a folded blanket. _Determined, foolhardy, crazy ___—he unfolded it and laid it on my lap. I made a show of fixing it, even though it was just right, damn him. He looked around, then crossed the room and sat on the couch.

After a few moments of silence, he said, "Why don't you come over here? More comfortable than the chair. Warmer, too."

"Being closer to you, I assume."

"I was going to say closer to the radiator, but now that you mention it—"

"I'm fine."

He moved down to the end of the couch, though there'd already been plenty of room. He put his arm along the back. He tried for a smile and didn't really manage it, but my heart still did a little flip, the betraying thing.

_He's sorry, Chloe. He really is a sweet guy. Don't be a bitch about this, and don't screw it up. Just go over there. Give him a chance and, in no time, you'll forget everything else._

And that's exactly why I stayed in my chair. I didn't want to forget everything else or the next thing I knew, he'd be back on that roof, putting himself in danger, and not thinking a single thing of it.

"You don't get to do this," I said finally.

"Do what?" He asked the question innocently enough, but his gaze dipped slightly. "I'm sorry. That's what I'm trying to say, Chloe. That I'm sorry."

"For what?"

He looked up, confused. "Making you mad."

"Come back to me when you've figured out why," I answered, and got up to leave. I made it as far as the door. Then he was there, behind me, hand on my elbow. I didn't look back at him. I didn't dare. But I stopped and listened.

"When I got mad about you leaving," he said, "it wasn't because I thought it was stupid or I didn't think you'd be careful."

"You were just worried about me."

An exhale, relieved that I understood. "Yeah."

I turned, prepared for what I would face and how I would face it now. "Because you think I'm worth it."

He put his fingers under my chin. "I absolutely think you're worth it."

"But you don't think you are."

His mouth opened. Shut.

"That's what this is about, Derek. You won't let us worry about you because you don't think you're worth it. But I do. I absolutely do."

I lifted onto my toes, put my hands around his neck, and pulled him down. When our lips met, that first jolt… It was everything our first kiss had been and more. He knew that I cared, and that knowledge made everything sweeter. More intimate than simply passionate.

His hand went around my waist, pulling me closer and lifting me from the ground. I was a good thing, too, since my legs were losing their ability to do their job. But I didn't let them hang there for long. I wrapped them around his waist, intent on closing a gap that I was sure was there even if I couldn't find it.

He groaned—more like growled—and carried me over to the couch he had occupied moments ago. Our lips never separated, merely delved deeper into each other. We were close now, but we needed to be closer.

I briefly felt him lower me onto the couch before my senses completely left me. All but the nerves that he was activating. Those were on fire. My stomach could feel his hand through my shirt, and I sighed as it burned in blissful agony.

My own fingers found the bottom of his shirt and discovered what it was hiding, and he groaned in response. Feeling his hot skin beneath my fingers now was a lot different from when I rubbed his back when he changed. It wasn't his comfort I was seeking, but an analysis of what was there.

Our kisses had migrated from mouths to cheeks, to chins, to necks and ears. I stopped breathing when his mouth met my collarbone. And then decided that his shirt belonged elsewhere far from here. It was a good thing Derek agreed, because I needed some help. My hands were not as steady as I would have liked.

He lifted my shirt up, intent on it joining his own somewhere on the floor—

And Simon's footsteps thudded through the hall. Derek quickly got up so he was no longer laying on top of me and started to look around for his shirt. Fortunately it hadn't gone too far.

"And he says I have lousy timing," Derek grumbled. He put on his shirt and called, "What's up?"

"Andrew says he needs to go to the bathroom," Simon said, walking in. "I'm all for saying too bad, but…"

"Fine. I'll handle it," Derek said. "Chloe? Wanna come—"

"I need to talk to Simon."

He gave me a weird look at that, but only for a second, like he wasn't jealous—it was obvious where my intentions lie—just maybe a little hurt that I wasn't jumping to come with him.

"It's important," I said. "Grab Tori, though. She can help with Andrew."

He nodded and left.

—Chapter 37—

"So," Simon said. "Looks like you and Derek are getting along again. What happened? Did he give you the look?"

"Look?"

"You know. The one that makes him look like a whipped puppy, and makes you feel like a jerk for doing the whipping."

"Ah, that one. So it works on you, too?"

He snorted. "It even works on Dad. We give in, we tell him it's okay, and the next thing you know, he's chewing up slippers again."

I laughed.


	6. The Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one is going to be the almost scene when Derek is changing and Simon plays his role excellently as the king of cock-blocking. I wasn't planning on it, but this one turned out to be a little steamy. Okay, a lot steamy. I can't help it. Derek was all naked and sweaty and my mind went wild.
> 
> After this is just the end and I'm actually not sure how I'm going to handle that one. I will admit to being a bit daunted. I'm contemplating upping the rating and making it a cock-block free moment, but I'm not sure. Let me know in a review if there is a particular way you would like for it to go down.

Derek's change came faster now, and maybe a bit easier—no vomiting this time. That didn't change the pain I felt at his own. Finally it was over, and he fell onto his side, panting, shaking, and shivering. Then he reached for my hand, holding it tight, and I entwined my fingers with his, shifting closer and using my free hand to brush sweaty hair from his face. His grip tightened, and I pulled him close, his head resting on my lap. The heavy breathing combated by the circles I traced on his back.

Eventually his breathing returned to what I would deem an acceptable pace, and he sat up to look at me. We sat there for a moment before he leaned in and our lips met. But they didn't just meet, they duelled. I could feel the urgency of his actions, a driving need for our bodies to recognise that the opposite was alive. That we were well.

Lips, we soon realized, were not enough. Hands needed to be involved. Derek's fingers traced over my ribcage, under my shirt and reaching my breast. I might have moaned. My own fingers were clinging to his hair, bringing him closer to me. They belonged in his hair. Derek shifted further over me, pinning me to the ground.

"Woah," a voice said, interrupting me mid arch and Derek mid moan. Simon stood in the entrance to our corner, a pile of fabric in his hands. "You really need to get dressed before you start that."

"And here I was with the understanding that less clothing was the desired way to go about it," Derek whispered in my ear.

I might have moaned, and he might have smiled.

"I'm not starting anything," Derek said. "That I don't mean to finish," he continued in my ear.

"Don't think I didn't hear that." He held out the stack in his hands. "Dr. Fellows dug up some hospital greens for you. Get dressed and then... whatever."

"We weren't—" I began.

"Have you still got my note?"

I nodded.

"Give it to him."

I wiggled a bit so I could reach into my back pocket and pulled out the folded page and handed it to Derek. He mumbled something about friction before getting up a bit to read it. When he was busy with it, Simon let the smile fall from his face as he studied his brother.

"Is he okay?" he mouthed.

I nodded and reached around Derek to grab the scrubs Simon was holding as he refolded the note. Since I was still trapped under his frame, I held out the shirt for him to put on, he slipped his arms and head through, and I pulled it down. But that was as far as I was going to go, so I stood up and went around him so he could put on his pants.

"We good?" Simon asked.

"Yeah." Derek lowered his voice.

A squeak of shoes as Simon turned to go. Derek called him back, grunting with effort as he rose, his bare feet padding over. A short, murmured conversation. Then the slap of Simon smacking Derek's back, and his footsteps retreated.

Then a hand on my waist, a light touch, tentative. I turned and Derek was right there, his face above mine, hands sliding around me as I tilted my face up and his lips gently grazed mine before—

"What the—?"

I jumped, Derek groaned. Tori stood there, staring at us, Simon behind her, grabbing her arm.

"I told you not to—" Simon began.

"Yeah, but you didn't say why. I sure didn't expect..." She shook her head. "Am I the last one to know everything around here?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was fun. I liked this one. It's definitely my favorite. Reviews are important here, because I need to know if a rating change would be a good idea, or if I should just keep it T and, well, I don't really know what my plan is either way. So tell me what I should do, because I have NO IDEA! And then I'm going to the other books, and am going to play with those. And the Mortal Instruments (only 1-3... anything beyond that is a lie), because Jace is a sexy sexy beast.
> 
> Two years after the original posting, and I'm still not sure what I'm going to do about the last scene in the book. I'm waay too good at procrastinating.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't change much in this scene, but it did make the moment so much more intimate and delicious, don't you think?


End file.
